Picture Perfect
by caveat lector
Summary: Wammy’s House seemed like the perfect place to raise genius children. But on the inside of those old walls, the children were all rotting slowly from the inside. Instead of creating great achievers, nothing but insanity and hatred was spawned.
1. L

**A/N: **Hi. Okay, I just had this sudden urge to write a oneshot for each of my favourite Death Note characters. And since my favourite characters happen to be the Wammy-boys, I thought that this was a splendid opportunity to explain some stuff about them. So basically, there'll be six chapters: one for each. A and B as well, because I love them to pieces. (If you don't know who they are, I suggest that you read 'Death Note Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases'). I'm not sure about pairings yet, but there'll probably be at least one. (Yeah, I'm a huge fan of MattxMello...)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Death Note or any of its characters. Nor am I creative enough to come up with a witty way of saying that. The poem, 'the Spider and the Fly', which will have an appearance in this fanfic, is a famous children's poem by Mary Howitt.

_-_

Wammy's House. A house of genius, of intelligence, of great achievement, but most of all a house of madness. Children were raised there, trained. First, the reasons had been good. Reasons such as the children, being the great masterminds that they were, could not handle the real world. Wammy's House started as a place where those children could learn to be human. In time, however, it became the exact opposite. There was no one to blame for the horror that the children would be put through. Of course, they all tried to find someone to blame which is expected for any human being who has been through the misery that these children had.

But at first, when everything was done with good intention, the children were happy. As happy as possible, that is, since they had all seen more than most people.

_Wammy's House_, said the sign on the fence.

_-_

"_Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly,  
"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;  
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,  
And I have many curious things to show you when you are there."  
"Oh no, no" said the Fly, "to ask me is in vain;  
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."_

-

**L Lawliet**

_-_

A young boy, no older than six, sat in a small chair with his knees pulled up to his chest, looking as if the entire world was falling apart in front of him. His black hair hung into his round eyes, wide with curiosity and fright, and he tried to think about something else than everything he had already been put through. It was hard, though, to forget the death of his parents; he'd witnessed their murder in their own little apartment, somewhere in London. They'd just moved there after having lived... many other places. The boy was pretty sure that he'd lost count of the places he'd lived by now. He knew that it was because of his mother. It was an illness called Borderline Personality Disorder, and he'd looked it up in some of his father's big books about psychology. One of the symptoms, the book had said, was inability to be happy in one place. Some of the other symptoms were lying, harming yourself, and the belief that people were either with you or against you, he remembered. He hadn't minded, though. He liked moving, because it let him see new places all the time.

His parents were killed by someone to whom they owed money. He'd shot them both in the head. The bad man. Yes, he was the _bad man_, and the boy was already determined to catch him. He'd gotten away. The boy knew very well that the police were too incompetent to ever find him, because it had something to do with some large organization. The police couldn't ever get their hands on someone with so much protection as he knew they had in that organization.

The man from earlier came into the room and the boy tried to pull his knees closer to him. Not that he didn't like the man; he just didn't trust the stranger who had taken him from the police station after they'd taken him away from the apartment. The man had said that his name was Mr. Wammy and that he knew the boy's father. "I can give you a home," he'd said, and the boy had believed him in a moment of trust. Now, however, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to be where he was. He missed his parents and the house he was in now was so _big_. He had only been in the hallway and the office, but children had looked at him from every direction, he had seen stairs lead up to at least two more floors and there was a big lawn outside where other children had been playing various games.

"Do you know why you're here?" asked Mr. Wammy. The boy shook his head, even though he had already guessed that this was an orphanage. There had to be another reason, though; his parents didn't have any money and it looked like a very expensive house. He'd also heard some of the children talk about classrooms, which meant that the house was also a school. There was no way he could stay there for free. There had to be a reason, a price of some kind. Maybe not money, but surely something else.

"I know that you've had a long day," Mr. Wammy said, "but I'd like to explain this to you now, if you don't mind? It's important that you decide whether or not you want to stay here. If not, we can easily find somewhere else for you to live."

He nodded, not looking at Mr. Wammy, but at the bowl of candies on the table. Mr. Wammy chuckled and pushed the bowl closer to him, and he warily reached out for one, which was quickly followed by another one while Mr. Wammy talked.

"This is Wammy's House. I'm sure you already know that it's an orphanage. But not just an ordinary one, this is a place where smart children can live and study. We have classes and teachers here as well, so none of you have to worry about the pressure of the outside world until you feel ready to leave. As I said earlier, I knew your father, and he always told me about how intelligent you were. He talked about the books you read, the ones that even he had difficulty with, as if they were common picture-books. I would like to give you a chance to develop your talents here. You have quite a knack for solving crimes, yes?"

Once again he nodded, his mouth too full of sweets for him to answer.

"If you want to, we can give you a bed, three meals a day, teach you almost anything you want to learn, and of course, you could make friends here. You can think it over until tomorrow, alright?"

"Yes," he managed to say through the candies in his mouth. He quickly grabbed a few more (because they tasted really good), and went to follow Mr. Wammy as he walked out of the office.

-

He'd been right; it was an enormous house. Bigger than anything he'd ever seen. It almost made him dizzy when he thought about how he was ever going to learn how to find his way around to classes and such. Mr. Wammy had taken him to a room with a bed, a closet, a desk and a chair and had told him that he could wait until the next day to decide if he wanted to stay there. So far, his answer was yes. Scary as it was, it was a place where they would teach him to be a detective -Mr. Wammy had said so himself- and he didn't want to have to meet more people any time soon.

With a sigh, he let himself curl up on the bed. He didn't want to go to sleep; what if he couldn't wake up again? He knew that it was a silly thought, but he couldn't shake off the feeling. Instead, he settled for staring at the ceiling.

The whole night passed like that.

_-_

Days turned into weeks, which eventually, without the boy even noticing it, turned into years. He was now nine years old and considered the most intelligent child to ever stay in Wammy's House. There were another child, though, who was pretty close to being almost as good. His 'name' was A.

They were all given aliases in the humble form of letters because of several reasons. One being that many of them would want to forget about their previous life. A new 'name' had apparently seemed like a good way to do so. Luckily his first name had been nothing but a letter, _L_, and he had insisted on keeping it. He did not have any wish to forget about anything, since he was planning to catch his parents' murderer as soon as someone would give him the chance.

But A was different than the other children. He never wanted to talk to L like everyone else. In fact, he left the room whenever L entered. One day, he had innocently asked why A disliked him so much, and the answer he had received had been a shock to him. Mr. Wammy had always seemed like a good person to him, but A made him change his mind about that.

"_Mr. Wammy doesn't care about anyone else. Only you. You're always the one getting attention and Wammy even said to Roger that he was considering finding a backup for you. Do you know what that means? I'm the second best here, if they want a backup for you, they'll pick me. How could I live up to that pressure?! I can barely even keep up with my own life, what're they expecting? None of us are super-humans with the ability to deal with everything thrown randomly at us... we're just children."_

"_But then tell Mr. Wammy that you don't want to be a backup." It seemed pretty simple to L._

"_You just don't get it, do you? You've only seen his good side, because you're his favourite. You have no idea how he treats the rest of us. It's like we're just little robots to him, with no emotions or anything. We don't even have any names! He expects us to just forget about everything we've been through. Not that I don't want to, but he's erasing our entire existence. What if we just die? You're the only one he'll remember... the rest of us will just be forgotten."_

A was a very intelligent eight-year-old. It hadn't been more than a few months since they'd had that conversation, but L was noticing how Mr. Wammy was only smiling at him. He'd never noticed that before A had mentioned it, and he wished it would go away. He was sitting in Roger's office, listening to the adults talk about a new child who, according to them, was perhaps even more intelligent than A. He briefly wondered about what kind of person it would be and took another bite of his cake as he silently amused himself by thinking about how Roger would only be nice to the children whenever Mr. Wammy was around. He'd been told that they were friends, but Mr. Wammy was a lot kinder, even if he was a cold as A said.

Suddenly, Mr. Wammy turned to L.

"L, we are planning on finding a backup for you--"

"I know."

Mr. Wammy sighed. "I know you do. But my point is that maybe it's not a good idea if you're here any longer."

"You're... sending me away?"

"If we start training the other children here to be your backups, there's a chance that some of them might go insane if you're around them too much."

That made sense. If he was there, in the same house as his backups, they might go crazy from jealousy and effort. He knew how fragile some of them were, and A had disliked him after just hearing that they considered the idea of a backup.

"Where are you sending me, then?"

"I'm not going to send you anywhere. I want to take you with me when I go searching for new children for the house. Of course, I will teach you how to be a detective and if you get good at it, I might let you solve real cases--"

"Yes! Take me with you!" He had always been interested in the places Mr. Wammy saw when he travelled the world in search of intelligent children. And maybe, if he was good, he could get the chance to find the _bad man_. Mr. Wammy smiled warmly at him, making him remember A's words. But if L was with him all the time, he could keep him occupied and then he wouldn't go to the house as often, and the other children wouldn't be jealous because he wasn't as kind to them as he was to L.

Problem solved.

-

It wasn't long before he was allowed to solve cases. Of course, Mr. Wammy (who now asked L to call him Watari) would help since L was only a child. But after a while, he proved Watari wrong nine out of ten times they disagreed.

When he was seventeen years old, he was the one of the greatest detectives in the world. He had several presidents calling him 'sir'. And then, one insignificant day, he happened to stumble across someone familiar in the middle of a case. It was an easy case and he hadn't been paying much attention to the files he was looking at, but a picture caught his eye. The man in the picture was bald, had small eyes, somewhat tanned skin, a piercing in his bottom lip...

"It's the _bad man_," he muttered quietly to himself. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten about that man... the man who'd killed his parents. The man who'd been his reason for wanting to become a detective, the very man who had... who had...

With a lot more enthusiasm, he poured himself another cup of tea and set to work.

-

He caught the _bad man_. Put him behind bars, his only regret being that he had to work through the American police to do it. It had been almost too easy; evidence of drug-selling weren't hard to find, the organization had almost vanished. There was no one to protect the _bad man_.

-

A smile was playing on L's lips as he stood outside the gates of Wammy's House. He had a hard time remembering how long it had been since he'd last been there. There were so many questions. How was everyone doing? Did A still dislike him? What about that person who seemingly was more intelligent than A? He knew a few things, the obvious things that he could figure out without having to ask Watari, such as the fact that they still hadn't found a backup for him. Watari frequently visited the house, but L always chose to stay away and work, so his knowledge about the children there was below limited. But it had been his home for years; he wouldn't be what he was without it.

But when he walked in through the front door, his first instinct was to run away and never come again.

Wammy's House had... changed.

There were no longer happy children playing anywhere, there was no constant sound of talk and laughter, and no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't see a single smile. Instead, what A had said about Watari had become true.

"_It's like we're just little robots to him, with no emotions or anything,_" A had said, and now they were. Everywhere, there would be blank stares and children buried in books and notes. What had happened? Confused, he tried talking to a few of the robot-children, but they didn't seem to understand that something was wrong. They just asked him what he meant, who he was, and then told him that it had always been like this. He didn't tell them who he was, remembering that their fragile minds could shatter at any moment. He would hate to cause them pain, but... he wasn't even sure that they could feel the pain.

Some of them were different, though. Four children in particular held his attention. Backup, Near, Mello, and Matt. They had chosen to give the children actual names instead of just a letter. Perhaps to make it seem more humane.

But these four children were different from the robots. Near because he was, if possible, even more robotic than the other children; his blank stare seemed constantly unfocused, he answered questions with as few syllables as possible, and he didn't even look up when Watari said hello. He was extremely intelligent, though.

Matt was different because he acted like a normal child. He played video games, smiled at L when they talked, apparently thought of classes as a chore. He, too, was very intelligent.

Mello had so much emotion that he made the children around him seem even more introverted. L decided that Mello was mentally strong enough to know who L was, and he spent hours trying to prove to the child that he was, in fact, L. It was then he noticed that the most intelligent children were the ones that had seemed different to him.

Backup. The boy who had been brought to the orphanage mere days after L left. The one whose intellect matched L's own. Backup was strange. The look in his eyes when he saw L was... hungry. L knew right away that Backup had figured out who he was and he did nothing to conceal that fact.

Backup didn't want to answer any questions. Instead, he asked about everything he could think of, and L answered politely, actually enjoying the company. Only one of L's questions were answered, the question that had been bothering him ever since he stepped into the house.

"Where is A?"

Backup looked at him for a while before he spoke.

"A killed himself. He said he didn't want to be your... backup." He laughed and continued. "I was the one who found him, you know. He'd hung himself in his room, didn't even leave as much as a note. It's only a few weeks ago, actually. Feels like forever..."

L wanted to feel guilty, but he didn't; he already knew that A did not have any wish to be his backup, and he'd feared that this was going to happen. He had not forced A to kill himself, it had been A's choice.

Backup went back to asking questions.

-

L was happy to leave the house. He hoped that he could talk to Backup again, though.

The chance never came. A few years after, when L was twenty-one, Watari suddenly told him something quite unexpected: "Backup has left Wammy's House."

-

Catching Backup was possibly the hardest thing L had ever done. And the most entertaining. As always, he had to act through someone else, this time Naomi Misora, but it had certainly been difficult. Backup was indeed a genius, and he'd left clues that even L had a hard time figuring out. A feeling of regret washed over him when he was told that Backup had been arrested; they could have been great friends, had L not left Wammy's House.

-

Time, as L noticed, had a bad habit of passing away.

-

And then something was interesting again. Kira. The first time Kira really started seeming interesting to L was when Backup died in prison. Kira was known for the ability to kill people without any contact, giving them heart-attacks. Backup had died of a heart-attack as well.

L developed a small obsession with Kira, to the point where he told his main suspect, Light Yagami, who he was. Yagami was a good actor, but L was very sure that he was a liar. He'd spend a big part of his life learning how to read people, and even though Yagami kept saying that he wasn't Kira, L had plenty of reasons to think otherwise. But, like Backup, Yagami's company was enjoyable, almost made L wish that they weren't enemies. (Which they were, whether Yagami admitted it or not.)

-

He was still afraid of sleeping. The fear had been there since that first night in Wammy's House, the fear that if he closed his eyes, they would never open again. And the few times he'd convinced himself to sleep for just a few hours, he was haunted by nightmares. The classic ones, the kind of nightmares where he would fall and fall. Only with one difference; he didn't wake up when he hit the ground. He knew that the shock of dying in dreams would wake someone up, but in the dream he didn't die. He felt his back hit the floor, saw someone smiling at him, closed his eyes, and _then_ he would wake up. This nightmare had haunted him ever since he first took up the Kira-case, and his bad sleeping-habits had gotten even worse.

But this time was different; he didn't remember falling asleep, and in his dreams, Watari never died. He wasn't even there. He wondered about the variation in his nightmare as his body cramped up and fell towards the floor. Somewhere in the distance, voices yelled at him, which was new as well. Arms caught him before he hit the floor... why was everything so different?

He looked up, seeing Light Yagami bending over him with a smile on his face. No, it wasn't a smile, it was a victorious smirk. Yagami was Kira. Then this wasn't a dream.

He was really dying...

L, now the three greatest detectives in the world, L who had stopped the serial murderer B, was dying in the arms of a simple teenager.

It wasn't a dream...

_I knew it_, he thought, because he knew that he was dying now.

_I wasn't wrong_, he thought, because he'd known all along that Yagami was Kira.

_But... I..._

-

**A/N: **Please review, even if it's just to tell me that I should go die in a fire.


	2. A

**A/N: **I would apologize for taking so long, but A has been giving me a lot of trouble. It feels a bit like writing about an OC, and I haven't enjoyed it very much. Anyway, next chapter shouldn't take as long.  
Please review! No seriously, it would mean the world to me.

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine, still no witty comment here.

-

Wammy's House. An old building surrounded by a tall fence, one of those with spikes on top of it, the kind of fence that makes sure that no one will be going anywhere. A prison. And a very beautiful one, too. On the outside, of course. The inside was an entirely different story; many poor children had lost their minds in there, some had even lost their life. All of them had lost all will to live, even though they desperately tried to convince themselves that they had even more purpose now than they'd ever had. Of course, they were lying to themselves, and on the inside they were all withering away. Some faster than others, but all of them for sure.

The few children who knew this were the ones who lost their minds or their lives. There were those who lost both.

_Wammy's House_, said the sign on the fence. _Wammy's Prison_ was a more correct name.

-

_"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;  
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.  
"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin;  
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"  
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said  
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"_

-

**After Acceptance**

**-**

After was tired. Tired, cold, scared, lonely, and basically miserable in general. He was lying in his bed, trying to fall asleep, but there was a storm outside and it scared him. There'd been a storm when his parents died as well... he didn't even know how they died. All he knew was that Mr. Wammy had randomly appeared one day and told him that his parents were gone and that they wouldn't ever come back. Then he'd asked if it was true that After was as intelligent as he'd heard and if he'd like to come with him. After had always been taught that he shouldn't go with strangers, but his parents had been away for many hours and Mr. Wammy had been smiling warmly to him. Besides, he didn't look like someone who would hurt a child.

So he'd followed the old man, gone on a plane with him even, had been taken to England and had now been at an orphanage called 'Wammy's House' for a week. It was an orphanage for very smart children, and he'd been told that they would learn how to function in the real world so that they one day could use their minds to make it a better place. That sounded great and all, but he wasn't sure just how that was supposed to be done; he was only four years old and he didn't know how to make anything better. He was actually a very negative person. He preferred to keep to himself (he hadn't even talked to anyone yet), he had a hard time trusting other people than Mr. Wammy, and he hadn't smiled in months now. Not even when his parents were alive was he cheerful.

He'd been dragged to all kinds of doctors and psychologists, who all said that is was a phase and that he just needed some time. His mother had, every time, yelled that something was seriously wrong with her child and that they had to do something or she'd go insane. His father had then, also every time, tried to calm her down and tell her that it was true; After _was_ just going through a phase. After never really said anything, he just stared at his feet and tried not to cry.

But that didn't matter now, because they were gone and he was at this place now. And here they didn't think that it was odd that he wasn't a happy child; they didn't really seem to care, which was fine by him. He'd rather be left alone anyway.

He let out a small sigh and shifted uncomfortably in the bed, still trying to fall asleep, but the thunder outside wouldn't let him. Each time he managed to drift off, there was a flash of lightening or more thunder or some other scary sound. He didn't like it. He usually didn't have a hard time falling asleep. He shifted again, deciding to use a classic trick; he would count sheep.

_1... 2... 3..._

-

He had difficulty accepting his new 'name'. Especially because it wasn't a name, but a mere letter; 'A', they'd decided to call him, and he did not like it. He couldn't understand why he couldn't keep his own name, even though Mr. Wammy had explained to him that it was standard procedure since most of the children would like to forget about their pasts. After didn't care if he forgot, he just felt as if they were taking something away from him by reducing him to nothing but a letter. Nothing more than a letter, a _letter_. He didn't react when someone called him 'A' and he just couldn't get used to introducing himself as 'A'. A.

A.

It didn't even stand for anything; just 'A'.

It had an almost eerie ring to it. Like something from a horror-book, something that wasn't really there, but it could still tear out someone's soul. Every letter sounded like that when he thought about it.

-

Particularly 'L', he decided.

Of course, he did not decide this until he actually _met_ L. He'd been at Wammy's House for a year, and one day Mr. Wammy had come back for a few days, bringing back his newest discovery.

_L_.

After noticed how Mr. Wammy's eyes lit up every time he talked about L, he noticed that Mr. Wammy only smiled at L... he'd never seen Mr. Wammy smile before L, actually.

L was a miracle. A bloody miracle. He was good at everything, everyone loved him, he was _really annoying_. And After was apparently the only one who noticed that L didn't seem to care at all about anyone but himself—and even that was questionable. L always seemed to be living in his own little world; if there was something that he didn't want to see, he pretended that it wasn't there. Even though After was a year younger than him, it seemed incredibly childish of L to ignore all problems like that.

Years later, L seemed to get better at dealing with minor problems, though; one day, he decided that it was time to ask After why he disliked him. After answered honestly, telling the pestilence that he'd heard Mr. Wammy and Roger talk about finding a backup for L. After was the second-best there. He didn't want to be L's backup. It was... humiliating. And the pressure... to know that he might have to replace the _perfect_ L. Mr. Wammy didn't seem to care.

Because not long after, he decided to take L away, which would have relieved After a lot, but then there was the announcement.

The announcement that the ten smartest children in the house would now be trained to become L's successor. His _backup_.

It was then that Mr. Wammy seemed to deem it cruel to give the children mere letters as names, and apparently decided that they should have a name to go with their letters. After had been there since before this decision, so he didn't get an actual name, but when new children came to the orphanage, they were lucky enough to get one.

This included Backup. _B_.

He was brought in not even a week after L left. And he looked so... strange. He didn't make eye-contact with people, but instead stared above their heads as if he could see something that they couldn't. When he saw After, his eyes widened to an almost impossible size and he walked over and _hugged_ him. After, of course, pushed him away and asked what he thought he was doing, but Backup just smiled at him and said nothing.

They became friends instantly.

-

Almost the moment they were told that Wammy's House would now be raising L's successor, the entire orphanage seemed to hold its breath, only to let out a defeated sigh. All laughter and playfulness faded away, being replaced by all the children studying intensely all the time. The ones who had been playing outside all day now locked themselves in their rooms, refusing to come out, all becoming obsessed with this new goal of theirs.

After had never played much with the other children, and quite frankly, he'd found their ability to be noisy at all times very annoying, but he knew that something was wrong. Children weren't supposed to act like this; they were supposed to be happy and innocent. But it seemed that being told about the backup-thing had stripped everyone of anything that could get in their way of becoming the next L. After knew that it wasn't really about L, but about finding a purpose in life, even if it would tear them apart from the inside.

Yes, After saw them lying to themselves and thanked whoever was watching over them that himself and Backup weren't like that.

-

After had never really had a friend before. He'd had lots of enemies and people who generally disliked him (and people he generally disliked right back), but no one had ever wanted to spend so much time with him as Backup did. He sometimes wondered why—if there was a day where they weren't going to be able to see each other anymore, but he always pushed that thought away, because he'd found himself becoming addicted to Backup. But at the most random times, Backup's eyes would drift upwards, above After's head, and stare at that invisible something, that something that always seemed to be on his mind. After had asked him once what he was looking at, but the reply he'd gotten had been "Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies."

That was one of the things he liked about Backup; he was so weird.

They were almost the exact same age, equally intelligent, their rooms were in the same hall, and Backup even managed to make After laugh once in a while.

It all seemed perfect, and for a while, After even managed to forget about L. He began associating the word 'backup' with something good, something that would take his pain away and make him happy.

And when After had trouble falling asleep, he would sneak into Backup's room, crawl into his bed, and they would count together. But for some reason, Backup counted seconds. Backwards.

_60... 59... 58... 57..._

Whenever he reached zero, he would start over. And he always seemed sad when counting. After didn't ask about the strange countdown, he just counted along.

_34... 33... 32... 31..._

-

"A, Backup, please come to my office," said Roger one day. They followed him curiously; Roger never called children (not really children; After was 13 year old and proud of it) to his office unless someone was in trouble. And seeing as no one ever really did anything else than study, this was a very rare occasion.

"I expect that you know why you're both here?"

Backup nodded, but After didn't have any idea.

"You two are exact equals in the exact same fields. I'm telling you this because there can only be one successor to L. You will both have to concentrate more from now on and we'll make the final decision in two years."

-

From that day on, Backup cared.

And he cared too much.

Every second of his life was spent on L— studying to become better than L, asking After about him, talking about him, probably thinking about nothing else. He even stopped counting when After couldn't sleep.

After didn't laugh anymore, didn't smile, didn't speak much. What was the point? Whenever he tried to start a conversation, Backup somehow managed to change the subject so he was able to talk about L. The scary part was that Backup didn't even seem to like L; in fact, he seemed to loathe the detective (because L was a detective now, had Roger said once), seemed to hate him more than anything. After didn't like L either, but... he wasn't _obsessed_.

It was too much.

He couldn't take it.

And Backup was becoming better than him, and After had to study as well, and there was so much _pressure_, and he had to be the best, because if he wasn't... if he wasn't...

Then what?

Then he would be forgotten, no one would care, he would be left to rot in his own loneliness, and Backup would leave him forever. After had to be the best. He wouldn't let Backup leave him.

-

The worst day of After's life, he decided, was the day, almost two years after they had been informed that they were rivals, Backup called him 'A'.

Backup had somehow known After's name since the day they met, had always addressed him by that name, but one day After apparently became competition.

(_After Became Competition, he thought, and had it been any other situation, he would have laughed_).

He had been reduced to a letter by the only person who had ever cared about him.

After didn't (_couldn't_) think anymore.

He was standing helplessly in the library, looking into Backup's eyes, and there was nothing, _nothing_, that could ever feel this horrible. Nobody cared...

There had just been a new set of children sent to Wammy's House... poor, innocent souls, none of them had any idea that they would turn into maniacs, that they would forget about everything that mattered to them, only to gain a title... not even a title, just a letter.

One letter.

L.

-

Later that day, after having thought about nothing at all (nothing, like himself. Ironic), After decided that enough was enough. There would be no more sacrificing his sanity for the sake of nothing (again, nothing).

There was a rope in the tool-shed, right?

He briefly wondered if anyone would remember him as he went to his room alone.

Alone, again, like he had been when he had first arrived.

After had only lived for fifteen years... only fifteen. Nothing more.

No, that wasn't true.

'A' had lived for... how long? When had he stopped being After?

Nothing made any sense anymore.

There was no line between After and A, no line between sanity and madness, no line between life and death.

Death.

He shut the door behind him.

The last thing he did before ending it all was taking a little piece of paper. He wrote his name on it, because he was After, and A wasn't going to win:

_After Acceptance_.


	3. B

**A/N:** I hereby claim the title 'Queen of Irregular Updates', which I have previously referred to myself as. If someone else has claimed aforementioned title, I am not aware of it and I do sincerely apologize. Here is a chapter about everyone's favourite L-cosplayer. If you choose to review, I will be extremely grateful.  
This chapter contains a little language, but not much. I think there are two f-bombs or something, but that's all.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing that you might recognize belongs to me.

-

Wammy's house was not exactly where you'd want to place already mentally unstable children; even the strongest of them would break there, become obsessed with something that only one of them could have. Friends would turn into rivals -enemies- and love would turn itself into hatred. In Wammy's House there was no difference between those two emotions. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have mattered. The only thing that was supposed to mean anything to anyone was working hard to gain something that was almost unachievable. The poor children buckled under the pressure, lost their minds, became exactly what they were supposed to become; obsessed.

If they weren't insane when they were brought there, they would be when they left.

_Wammy's House_, said the sign on the fence. The two words had little to no significance. It was not only a house, it was an asylum.

-

_Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend, what can I do  
To prove that warm affection I've always felt for you?  
I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;  
I'm sure you're very welcome - will you please take a slice?"  
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind sir, that cannot be,  
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"_

-

**Beyond Birthday**

-

Beyond sighed as he waited for someone to arrive. He knew that when his mother had left the house to go shopping that morning, she would not return. He'd seen her numbers, and they were so close to zero that he knew he'd never see her again. His father had died before he was born, and his mother was the only family he had left.

Well, now Beyond only had himself.

He'd watched the news, heard about the train-wreck, the accident... that was probably what had killed her, he figured— she had said that she would have to be gone for a while, and the accident had so far cost around one hundred human lives. Yes, it was very possible for her to have died there.

Sighing again, he leaned his head back against the wall behind his bed. He briefly wondered if he was a bad person, not feeling bad about his new status as an orphan, but he'd known for as long as he could remember. His mother's numbers had always been counting down to this date, to the day she would die. He'd tried to tell her about the numbers that he could see above everyone but himself. Not only their numbers, but their names as well. He could see his own name, but not the numbers. His mother had just laughed when he told her; she'd laughed and said something about a healthy imagination. Beyond had gotten upset with her for not believing him. After all, it was her life he was talking about, how could she just laugh like that?

Someone knocked on the door.

-

Three days later, Beyond was sitting in his new home, on his new bed, leaning his head back against the wall and wondering what would become of him. No, that wasn't right... he wasn't Beyond anymore, he was Backup. The man, Quillish Wammy, who had picked him up from his home and taken him to the orphanage, had explained everything to him. The orphanage was apparently only for really intelligent children, and they were supposedly being trained to become the backups of someone named 'L'. This L-person had just left the orphanage and the thing about the rest of the children having to become the next him was fairly new. For some reason, it had been found necessary to give Beyond the name Backup. Perhaps it was to constantly remind him about what he was— a backup.

He chuckled at the thought. It seemed ridiculous that someone would try and strip him of his entire personality like that. Because that was what they were doing, whether they wanted to admit it or not, but Backup had decided from the beginning that they weren't going to win, that he was going to keep being himself no matter what they did or said.

Beyon— no, _Backup_, decided that it was time to see the other children there. He was allowed to stay in his room for as long as it would take for him to get over the death of his mother and get used to his new surroundings, but he had known that she was going to die, and if he didn't see where he was, then there was nothing to get used to.

The first child he noticed was _After Acceptance_, whose numbers would only allow him a few more years before he was going to die. After looked so fragile and sad that Backup immediately went to give him a hug, wanting to befriend the poor creature. They were inseperable ever since.

After had trouble sleeping, and Backup would lie in his bed with him, counting the damned numbers that were ticking away too fast. Every time another second disappeared, Backup's heart would ache for his friend, he would wish that there was something he could do, but he knew that he couldn't change the horrible numbers telling him that his only friend would die in less than three years.

-

Backup was pretty sure that he loved After. This was what love had to feel like, he thought, every time he saw After smile that crooked smile at him, every time they got into mock-fights about being equally good at the same things, every time he saw the grotesque countdown. When he was with After, he forgot how eerily quiet the entire house was. He forgot the looks in the other children's eyes, the dead and cold looks, and the only thing that mattered to him was making the best of the moment; all too soon, there would be no more moments to make the best of.

Love hurt.

-

"_You two are exact equals in the exact same fields. I'm telling you this because there can only be one successor to L. You will both have to concentrate more from now on and we'll make the final decision in two years._"

As soon as the words had left Roger Ruvie's mouth, Backup knew how After would die. Because Backup felt it too, felt the pressure on his shoulders, pulling him down into insanity. One moment, one sentence, it took nothing more than that.

Backup decided that madness was a better place to be than in love. He let himself become obsessed with the L that he hadn't previously cared about. Tried to ignore After as much as he could, because if he didn't care it wouldn't hurt as much when the day would finally arrive. The only time he would let himself really talk to his friend was when he wanted to discuss L. Sadly, After did not seem to enjoy that subject quite as much as Backup did, but it gave Backup a chance to tell himself that 'at least he was trying'.

-

Two years had almost passed since they had been told that they were rivals. Today was the day. Backup didn't know what to do, what to say... he knew that After felt bad about the 'name' that they had given him: 'A'. Backup knew that After couldn't handle that letter, that he insisted on everyone referring to him as After.

So Backup decided to say something unforgivable.

"I'm trying to read, A, please leave me alone."

He'd never called his friend A... never told him to go away... but it hurt too much, and no matter what, After was going to die in just a few hours from then.

As Backup watched his love walk away, he whispered to himself: "I'll miss you, After Acceptance."

-

Backup was the one who found him, hanging from the ceiling like some horrific example of what could happen to the children of Wammy's House if they realized what was really going on.

He couldn't help but feel like it was his fault.

But it wasn't Backup's fault... L's fault. It was L's fault that their friendship had been ruined, that they were forced to become obsessed, thus causing After's suicide.

Beyond Birthday swore to get revenge.

-

Not only had he lost his friend, he had also lost the chance of ever becoming L. The new 'shipment' of children had just arrived. It had apparently been decided that it was better for the new children to arrive together so they weren't alone as the 'new one', but instead a whole group of 'new ones'. And it had also been decided, it seemed, that Backup wasn't mentally stabile enough for the competition and the fight for the title of the next L.

Of course, this only angered him and motivated him further, because he wanted it even more now that he couldn't have it.

The new children were... scary. Maybe it was because Backup hadn't noticed the gloomy atmosphere when After was alive, but it seemed to get worse when they arrived. Or maybe it was because one child in particular was so full of life that he seemed to suck the energy out of his surroundings. Backup decided to make friends with this child- Mihael Keehl. They'd named him Mello, for some reason. Backup hadn't really been told about the new name-system.

Young Mihael almost made Backup feel bad; such a normal boy wasn't supposed to be locked in the asylum with a bunch of obsessed freaks. It was... wrong. But Backup would warn him, he decided, against the dangers of Wammy's House, and so he walked over to him, staring into his eyes and trying not to focus on the numbers that said the boy probably wouldn't make it past 20.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Backup said. "You're not crazy enough."

Mihael tilted his head, not having to ask the obvious questions. Backup continued. "This place will destroy you, you know... don't let it."

Mihael just stared at him as if he was some kind of monster.

But in time, the boy learned that Backup wasn't as dangerous as he might seem, and Backup got the chance to tell him about everything he knew- about L, After, Wammy's House, obsessions, everything that would come to his mind. It was nice, having someone to talk to after shutting After out for almost two years and then losing him. But Backup hadn't forgotten his plans...

-

He spent so much time planning his revenge that he lost count of the months. It had to be totally perfect, or it wouldn't work. Backup had to be better than L, beat him at his own game.

"How much time has passed?" he asked himself one day, staring into the mirror, desperately wondering why he couldn't see his own numbers, but only his name. "Too much," he continued, "way too much. It's time to get out. Time to get it started."

He would have left that day...

But then L showed up.

L... Backup could barely believe it. L, _the L_, was visiting Wammy's House.

Backup caught a glimpse of him in the hallway. L was looking as if he had never been there before (which he had, if only for a short while), staring at the children like they were supposed to be different from what they were. Talked to some of them... the small white boy with the long life, Mihael, and the red-head who would die the same day as Mihael...

L talked to Backup as well...

Asked a lot of questions... but Backup didn't have the time to answer them; L had to leave again sometime, and Backup wanted to know everything he could about the detective that had caused all this pain and insanity. He only answered one question:

"Where is A?"

Backup had to think a little about that. What should he say? Should he blame L? Tell him that After had killed himself because of L's inhumanity and expectations? No, L was smart, he could figure that out by himself. "A killed himself. He said he didn't want to be your... backup." Backup laughed, because it was _funny_! It was so hilariously grotesque that he couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, and he hoped that it disturbed L. "I was the one who found him, you know. He'd hung himself in his room, didn't even leave as much as a note. It's only a few weeks ago, actually. Feels like forever..." That wasn't entirely true. First of all, it had been many months since After had killed himself, but Backup supposed that it was a matter of how you chose to look at it. Second of all, After _had_ left a note: a small piece of paper with his real name written on it, but L didn't have to know about that.

In fact, L didn't have any right to know A's real name.

Backup asked more questions...

-

L left. Backup started dressing like L, talking like him, sitting like him, doing everything he could to be as much as the detective as he possibly could. He had to re-think all of his brilliant plans... after meeting L in person, they didn't seem as brilliant anymore.

It took years, but when Backup was finally done, he could leave.

And he did. He left everything behind him. After, Backup, little Mihael, he was able to leave almost all of it behind.

Everything but L.

-

He was no longer Backup. That was a time he no longer wished to remember; he was Beyond Birthday, just like the name he saw when he looked into the mirror said.

His plan was simple: beat L at his own game. Just like he had always intended. He would create a case so hard that even L wouldn't be able to solve it. And what better way to make an unsolvable case than to make the killer look like a victim?

But first he had to kill someone else, otherwise there wouldn't be a case.

-

L.A.- the city of angels. And Beyond Birthday was indeed an angel of death.

-

It was easy to kill Backyard Bottomslash. Actually, it was almost too easy. Quarter Queen was more difficult, because she was only a child, just like he had been once. But she was going to die anyway and Beyond forced himself to look past age and focused only on one thing: L.

"You died for a good cause," he told her, and remembered that a corpse couldn't hear what he was saying.

Believe Bridesmaid was not as easy as he had initially assumed. Arms and legs didn't come off quite as easily as they said in the books at Wammy's House.

-

L didn't show any interest, but Beyond knew that he had his attention. And yes- L sent a mouthpiece. A woman named Naomi Misora, who would die a few years from the day they met. She was quite intelligent, just not as bright as Beyond (or L, for that matter). He called himself Rue Ryuuzaki, because that was _L_ and the first letters matched, as a small mindfuck on his behalf, intended to make Misora feel bad about not having figured it out afterwards, when it was all over.

-

And it was time for the fourth murder.

Everything was ready, prepared, picture fucking perfect, wiped clean, over and done with...

And then there was fire and there was pain and '_it hurts_' filled up his mind, but he tried to keep his focus on L, on the look on his face when he realized that _Backup_ had surpassed him, but _it hurt_—

And then the fire went away.

Why wasn't he dead?

Misora... she had figured it out. Put out the fire. How was it possible? For someone so common, so _sane_, to figure out his master plan, how could it be?

-

Beyond Birthday never said another word.

-

They stuck him in a prison, with all the other psychos, and he was ruined, destroyed by _L_!

He was not good enough to be Backup, not insane enough to be Beyond Birthday... what was he? Not an angel of death, apparently.

After was 'A'... Maybe Beyond could be 'B'?

-

There was a sharp pain in B's chest... not the usual regret and self-loathing, something physical.

Hadn't he heard something about someone named 'Kira', who could kill people with nothing but their name and face?

The last thing B managed to wonder was what name Kira had known was B's.

Because even though the mirrors still said 'Beyond Birthday', B had no idea.


End file.
